Letters to Nowhere #1 (Completed!)

Letters to Nowhere: Part 57

"Don't say anything to Ellen," Blair hissed in my ear while we were in the locker room during break. "She'll know she can't come but she's gonna sulk about it for a week."

            "Got it."

            "What are you wearing?" Blair asked.

            I grabbed my grip bag and waved a hand to stop her from talking. "No distractions! I'm focusing."

            "Sorry," she gulped, zipping her lips.

            Jordan was in the lobby whispering with Stevie about something, but I barely glanced their way as I taped up my wrists for bars. It took me longer than anyone else to notice the four random people and one giant camera occupying space in the lobby.

            "NBC is here?" I hissed to Blair.

            "Probably to cover Stevie. Another story about the fallen champion or something," she whispered back.

            One of the NBC guys walked up beside us. I recognized him from training camps. They came out to get footage of us working out together whenever a competition was approaching. They'd been to the gym before, too, when Stevie was working toward making the Olympic team the summer before last. They got tons of footage and even interviewed all of us. Being a junior then, I'd thought it was pretty cool.

            "Hi, girls!" Scott, the reporter, said. "How's training going? We heard you were doing a little meet in Chicago before the American Cup." He didn't even wait for us to answer. His eyes darted toward Bentley, who was talking to the other NBC people, and then he zoomed in on me. "I'm so sorry to hear about your parents, Karen. Just wondered if we could sit down and talk to you about it and about how brave you are to get back in the gym and keep working toward your goals."

            My mouth fell open but no words would come out. I could feel sweat pooling on the back of my neck. The last thing I needed was to have an emotional breakdown on national television or to have the entire country know me for my sob-worthy orphan story rather than for my gymnastics.

            Coach Bentley strode across the lobby, placed his hands on my shoulders and turned me around. "Time for bars, girls. Scott, you are welcome to take as much training footage as you'd like, since apparently Nina Jones has already given permission for NBC to enter my gym."

            Holy cow, Bentley is pissed.

            I managed to get through my competition routines, blocking out the cameras and Jordan watching. He must have done something amazing to charm Stacey into allowing him to stand near the beams while she coached the level 7s. Blair had her grips off to repair a rip on her right palm, so I let her fix my sweaty hair into a bun while we waited for Bentley to get an extra crash mat under the high bar. I didn't want to look like a complete slob for NBC.

            Blair dropped her hands from my hair, declaring it finished, and Bentley stood under the high bar, ready for me to take my turn.

            "The key is patience, Karen," he said. "Let your toes rise all the way up before you let go."

            I nodded, visually playing out his suggestion in my head. I spat on each grip once more before jumping into my mount on the low bar. Before the Jaeger, in my routine, I had to turn my hands to an inverted grip and then I swung facing the low bar, my heels leading the way around.

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